


supernumerary

by orca_mandaeru



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Anal Beads, BDSM Scene, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Choking, Cock Rings, Established Relationship, Face-Fucking, Gags, Gangbang, Leashes, Lots of Cum, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Nipple Clamps, Objectification, Overstimulation, Painplay, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex Toys, Spanking, Sub Han Jisung, Vibrators, Watersports, it/its is used for jisung only within scene, wheres the tag for pissing inside ass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:35:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28766433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orca_mandaeru/pseuds/orca_mandaeru
Summary: This is what Jisung's been secretly dreaming of for years, being utterly used for pleasure by all of his friends to the most extreme degree.
Relationships: Bang Chan/Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know, Han Jisung | Han/Everyone, Hwang Hyunjin/Kim Seungmin/Yang Jeongin | I.N, Lee Felix/Seo Changbin
Comments: 6
Kudos: 197
Collections: Div's Favorites





	supernumerary

**Author's Note:**

> pls read the tags and let me know if there's anything i missed bc there's... a lot here lmao

Jisung can't even remember the last time he was this nervous and excited. His skin is practically vibrating in anticipation as he dries the water off his body from his thorough bath and shower, much more aware of his own bare body than usual. He doesn't bother to put any clothes on, slipping out the bathroom and heading into the main room of his little family's sprawling penthouse apartment.

  
  


Minho and Chan are sitting on one of the three couches in the center, the attention of both snapping to him the moment he enters. Under their gaze, Jisung feels not one ounce of self-consciousness, every inch of his naked body seen and tracked by their eyes and hands thousands of times over. “Hey,” he says, unusually quiet, fingertips going to his mouth.

  
  


“C'mere,” Chan responds softly, opening his arms wide. Jisung slides into his lap with a sigh, his bare skin absorbing the warmth of Chan under him still in his work suit. Minho leans over to card his fingers through Jisung's still-damp hair, smiling slightly as he checks over the state of his body. There's no visible marks on his body, a more than rare sight these days. It's been quite the exercise in self-control on Chan's part not to cover him in bite marks, and on Minho's to be ultra careful not to leave the slightest bit of rope marks on his easily-bruised skin.

  
  


Jisung more than misses the feeling, even with how much he gets teased for it at work, but it's all worth it for today. This is a culmination of everything he's been secretly dreaming of for years, everything that's spilled from his mouth in hesitant rants of confessions to his partners under the cover of night. Today, he wants his body to be as clean a slate it can be, play into the roleplay of being dragged into darkness, reduced to perfection.

  
  


“When are the others coming?” He murmurs into Chan's shoulder.

  
  


“Hmm, twenty minutes or so,” Minho responds, hands sliding down do gently press at the muscles of his neck.

  
  


“You ready?” Chan asks, taking up the action of gently smoothing down Jisung's drying hair.

  
  


Is he? They've been planning this for so long that it felt like it would never happen, an endless amount of phone telephone games to figure out a time where eight adults with jobs and busy lives could get all their schedules to line up for a good while. Then there was the process of confirming that they were all tested properly just in case, the discussions to make sure that all of them knew just what they were allowed to do, what the early signs of something going wrong was.

  
  


“Yeah. Yeah, I'm ready.” He pulls back to look at his partners, fingers pressing into Chan's shoulders. He's still nervous, sure, but now that he's back in the familiar hold of those he loves most, he remembers just how much he trusts them, how badly he's wanted this for so long.

  
  


“Nice,” Minho says, edges of his lips curling up in a positively predatory smile. Sometimes Jisung forgets that Minho and Chan have been waiting for this just as much as he has. “Let's get you all prepared then. Finally decided what to wear?”

  
  


Jisung leans back a little, staring down at his own bare body. There's so many options to choose from, from pretty lacy lingerie, to cute little crop tops and miniskirts, to comfortable clothes that would get tossed away in a moment. But deep down, he knows what he really wants, despite the mere thought making the tips of his ears burn up with humiliation. “Yeah, uh, nothing.”

  
  


“Oh,” Chan raises his eyebrow, hands sliding down to hold his slim waist, eyes sliding over his body like it's the first time he's seen it.

  
  


“And... the clamps too?”

  
  


Minho blinks and smiles wider, still rubbing along Jisung's shoulders. “Whatever you want, baby. Let me grab everything, hm?”

  
  


Jisung nods, sighing and wrapping his arms back around Chan's head, nuzzling back under his chin. The crisp fabric of his perfectly pressed suit under him crackles as he tugs Jisung close, patting his back. “You excited?”

  
  


“Oh my god, Channie,” Jisung huffs, burying his face into his jacket. “Yeah, but I'm still nervous.”

  
  


Chan laughs quietly, pressing a kiss to his fluffy hair. “I know you know this already, but our friends are not going to judge you in the slightest. I know for a fact how excited they are, this is more like a present to them than us.”

  
  


Jisung rolls his eyes, but still feels a little bit of the pressure lift off his chest. Before he can say anything more, Minho emerges from their playroom, holding a near-overflowing plastic bin of the things they finally agreed on using for tonight.

  
  


“C'mon, on the carpet,” Minho says briskly, starting to set everything out. Jisung swallows, sliding out of Chan's lap and crawling over the expensive, lush carpet on the floor in between the couches, settling on his knees with his hands in his lap. Minho pulls out their huge, well-used bottle of lube first, a medium-sized glass plug tinted pretty pink.

  
  


Chan slips off the couch to join them, stealing a kiss from Jisung before gently pushing him down with a hand on his back, until his cheek is on the carpet with his bare ass lifted into the air. Minho knee-walks over and gently pats his butt, smoothing his palm over the warm skin. Jisung eyes the bin of gear, trying to make out exactly what's in there as Minho lubes up his fingers.

  
  


“What's in there?” Jisung asks, breath only hitching a little bit when Minho's cold fingers rub in flat circles over his asshole.

  
  


Chan laughs and taps a finger against his cheek. “Hey, don't try to spoil the surprise. You'll find out soon enough.”

  
  


Jisung grumbles but rocks backwards anyway, concentrating on relaxing his body as Minho works a finger into him. He's used to this plug enough that he probably doesn't need it, but there's no being prepared enough with the treatment he's about to go through. At this angle, he can't see, but he can tell that Minho is taking his sweet time looking at him like he always does, squirting even more lube right in him and holding him in place as he shudders, scooping up the copious liquid and pushing it back inside of him with a wet squelch.

  
  


Not knowing the specific details of what's going to happen is actually more comforting, in a way. They've been together for so long and in the most vulnerable ways that Chan and Minho know exactly what he's okay with, and they trust him enough to immediately let them know if something's wrong. Whatever's going to happen, he knows it'll be good.

  
  


Minho slides his fingers out and pats his butt again, wasting no time or additional fun when he slips in the plug with one firm push. Jisung's eyes flutter closed as he takes a moment to get used to the weight inside of him, fingers reaching out to clutch at Chan's thigh in front of him. The older man gently lifts his torso up by his shoulders, brushing his hair out of his face.

  
  


“You ready for the ropes?” Minho asks, hands closing around the hemp with the familiarity of a sailor. Jisung glances over, swallowing in anticipation. He nods, distracted by the gorgeous picture of Minho with rope in his hands, completely in his element and comfortable in the way that only comes with confidence and experience.

  
  


His hands go behind his back without having to be asked, sitting back on his heels and trying not to squirm as the motion pushes the plug further inside of him. Chan looks so good calmly watching them, tie slightly loosened and head tilted to the side, looking every part of the gorgeous, successful young businessman he is.

  
  


Minho has no problem casually manhandling him into place, exactly where he wants him as he starts his ties, looping and fastening over his skin. The feeling of it is so familiar that Jisung can already feel his body relaxing and his mind letting go, shifting over all control over to his partners as his movement is slowly restricted.

  
  


Chan leans back and whistles lowly as Minho stops with a flourish, standing up to admire his handiwork. Jisung's hands are suspended one over another behind his middle back, the tension perfect to the point of constraining him without digging into his skin, and his hands are still free to rotate around. The ropes stretch around to his chest, criss-crossing in a star-like pattern over his collarbones, exposing his chest and making it feel like it's pushed out to the front, nipples pebbling against the cool air.

  
  


He experimentally presses against his bonds, wrists pulling apart a tiny bit before they hit too much resistance. The feeling of restraint gets to him immediately, his head hanging down, breathing in shallowly. Chan leans in, looking absolutely entranced no matter how many times he's seen this and more, hands ghosting over the exposed, accentuated skin of Jisung's chest. He asks Minho something, and it's a marker of how far gone Jisung is already is that he can barely register the words.

  
  


His attention is perked by the soft clinking of metal, blinking up to watch Chan take the nipple clamps from Minho. Oh, fuck, they haven't used this in a while. This is the one with the black silicone ball gag attached, the ends of the chains of the clamps hooked to the metal rings on the side. More often than not, Chan and Minho want to hear his desperate whines and moans, so it's been a while. Jisung makes a small noise in the back of his throat while staring at it, aching to feel it, mind racing with the thoughts of how pretty and perfect he'll look.

  
  


Minho leans down to watch his expression, smiling at the state he's already in. “Felix just texted me, he and Changbin are going to be here in a few minutes, ok?”

  
  


Honestly, Jisung isn't nervous anymore at this point, the comfort of the ropes against his skin and the others near him turning his tension into low-burning sparks of arousal and anticipation. “Yeah, yeah, I'm good, baby. Bring it on.”

  
  


Minho presses the familiar shape of his favorite stress ball into his open palm, and Jisung grips it loosely, the soft material enough to grip for a while and ready to drop whenever he needs a break or to stop completely. Chan kneels closer to him, tipping his chin up. Jisung obediently stays there and stares at the lines of Chan's collarbones and neck and jaw, relaxing more as the straps of the gag are fastened around his head, obediently opening his mouth and closing it snugly around the silicone. This one isn't too big, just enough to comfortably stuff his mouth full, his spit already starting to pool on the back of his tongue.

  
  


Every inch of his skin feels electrified so exposed like this, tingling with the metal chains dangling down against his skin. Chan picks up the tips of the clamps, and Jisung can't help but stare at himself, wriggling a little bit in his ropes, watching the ends pinch open and slowly closing over his peaked brown nipples. _Fuck._

  
  


Jisung groans, chest shuddering away but not getting away from the intense feeling at all, his babbling completely muffled by the gag. Minho's steady hands wrap around his hips, holding him firmly in place as he squirms, the waves of sweet pain jolting through his body, drawing his attention to the hot pulses of his nipples, blood already rushing to his cock. It does something to him to not be able to speak, not clearly communicate anything he thinks or wants in the immediate moment with his hands tied as well, playing into the fantasy of having his humanity and the burdens that come with that stripped from him.

  
  


After a long moment, the initial shock and intensity fades to a manageable level, placing a constant low burn under his skin. He breathes shallowly through his nose, air whistling through the gaps around the silicone ball in his mouth.

  
  


The doorbell to the apartment rings, and Jisung stiffens, instinctively turning his head to look, the chains attached to his gag pulling taut and making him curl into himself with the sensation. Chan laughs at his surprised grunt and pats his cheek, standing up and heading towards the door. Jisung stares up at Minho with wide eyes, taking note the way his demeanor has already shifted, less softness in the way he looks at him, shifting into a gaze that strikes him down to his bones like a bird under a snake.

  
  


He doesn't do anything to him, though, just looks over his prone form with that hunger before huffing and standing up as well, tidying up the space for their guests. Jisung watches him, already shoving down the urge to beg him for attention in his vulnerable state. He sets the lube on the coffee table, along with a few bottles of water, the safety shears. Jisung can hear the sound of voices, Chan's and... if he strains his ears, he can tell that it's Changbin he's making small talk with, Felix's low voice pitching in.

  
  


They move closer, and Jisung knows he shouldn't, but he turns his head anyway, staring at two of his closest friends walking in and seeing him in this state with nothing to hide. Changbin spots him first, no ounce of shock passing his face, only taking him in and looking away like there's nothing unusual here. Felix takes a little longer to look, the corner of his mouth curling up in a smile before turning his attention back to whatever Chan is telling him.

  
  


No one making a big deal out of the situation reassures the last bit of his doubt away, as well as making his head spin a little at the reality of the situation. Minho joins their conversation, just courteous small talk. As he walks over to stand near the others, without even looking down, he plants the bottom of his shoe on Jisung's back, shoving him down until his cheek hits the carpet again. He chokes a little bit, swallowing his saliva, knees spreading apart a little on the ground. The thought of what he must look like burns through him with humiliation, naked and bound on the ground, plugged and gagged.

  
  


The doorbell rings again, Seungmin, Jeongin, and Hyunjin entering next, the sound of all of their voices and steps blending together. The room is full now, bustling with activity, all going on above and almost in a different world from Jisung, stuck on the floor in the middle of it all as people step over him as if he's nothing but a strangely shaped centerpiece.

  
  


Words float over his head just out of his field of awareness, lulling him into a sort of comforting limbo space. His ears are still taking everything in, though, bringing his brain back to focus when he hears something particularly interesting.

  
  


“Have you checked out that shop I recommended?” Minho asks. Jisung can't see anything but the couple of dim inches of carpet right in front of his face, but he can feel the disturbance in wind prickling against his bare skin as someone stands up and moves to a different part of the couch.

  
  


“Have I? I think we've spent half of our spare money on there already, there's just so much!” Hyunjin whines. Chan laughs, the sounds of clothes shifting again.

  
  


“Yeah, but we haven't even used any of it yet,” Seungmin says.

  
  


Then there's Felix's voice, deep and smooth. “Oh, why? Me and Changbin have been experimenting some as well, it's amazing.”

  
  


If this was a normal situation, there would be so much noise, so much more conversation going on around the fairly mundane exchange. However, there's a strange quiet and tension stretched in the air, the measured nature of every sentence belying the deliberate nature of what's really going on here.

  
  


Jeongin hums. “Well, we don't really know how any of them will feel, or if they really work the way we want.”

  
  


“They're certainly not going to test them out on me, who knows what might happen?” Hyunjin interjects, obviously having fun with this.

  
  


“Hmm.” Minho pretends to ponder for a while, making a little too bit exaggerated noise of realization. “Oh, you could always use our toy to test them out. It's got quite a few uses, you know.”

  
  


Fuck. They're talking about _him._

  
  


“Oh?”

  
  


It's probably impossible but Jisung imagines he can feel the second all eyes in the room go to him, prickling across his skin and laying him bare in a way that being simply unclothed could never match up to.

  
  


“I did notice that there. It's rather pretty, isn't it? In an odd way,” Seungmin says, voice flat. Like that isn't one of his oldest, closest friends lying prone on the floor there, talked about like an object.

  
  


Minho laughs, light and condescending. “Oh, we're pretty fond of it.” The soft impact of his steps vibrate through the carpet, and Jisung subconsciously stretches his wrists against the rope, careful not to move too much but self-control wavering not to look up at the presence just above him. He reaches down and grabs hold of Jisung's sides, pushing him in one direction. Keeping his breath measured, Jisung obeys, shuffling around in place, taking more effort than it should with his legs under him and without his arms for support.

  
  


His eyes squeeze shut when Minho taps him to stop, cheeks burning and stomach pulling at him heavy and warm at the realization that he's now faced directly backwards to the couches with his ass in the air, showing off the pink plug there and all his most vulnerable parts directly to all his friends with no way of covering himself. More sounds, and then wide, warm palms grasp his ass, the familiar rings and shape telling him it's Chan, spreading him even wider for the audience.  
  
  


“Look at this,” Chan says, grabbing the end of the plug and tugging it out an inch so that everyone can watch Jisung's asshole stretch before he shoves it back in, slapping the cushion of his ass to watch it jiggle, ignoring the weak whimpers filtering through the gag. “It can take practically anything you give it. I'm sure it'd be perfect to experiment with.”

  
  


The bottom of one of Minho's perfectly polished black shoes presses against Jisung's skull, grinding his nose into the carpet. “You don't need to worry about damaging it, either, it's quite resilient.”

  
  


“Sounds too good to be true,” Changbin comments, voice grating and dark in a way Jisung has never before had occasion to hear.

  
  


“Are you sure it won't act out? It's already so... whiny.” Seungmin points out, voice dripping with disappointment. 

  
  


“Oh, don't be so hard on it, Seungminnie. I'm sure Chan and Minho take very good care of their toys.” Felix pitches in.

  
  


“Still...” There's more sound of movement behind him, the sound of something clinking, and then a strange, tense silence fills the room. “I have high standards of behavior.”

  
  


Suddenly, there's a hand fisting in his hair, yanking his neck up at an awkward angle, his eyes immediately seeking out the comfort of Minho's presence above him, finding relief even in the blankness of his gaze as he looks down at him. Seungmin comes over to stand next to him, and Jisung next can't tear his eyes away from the leather leash dangling from the collar in his hand. Minho uses his grip to turn Jisung's head from side to side, examining the dried tear tracks on his cheeks, the saliva smeared around his stretched-wide lips.

  
  


Seungmin is staring at Minho with a challenging little smirk, running his fingers along the length of the leash. “I'm sure I'll have no need for this if you've trained your toy properly.”

  
  


Jisung stares up at them with wide eyes, gaze darting back and forth from the leash and Minho's carefully neutral face. If Minho refuses Seungmin he won't mind, he knows this is testing his boundaries, but he can't help the lancing heat of want that runs through him at the thought. Minho leans in and murmurs something into Seungmin's ear, the other man nodding with a spreading grin.

  
  


“Oh, of course,” Minho says succintly, stepping to the side so that he can still hold Jisung's head up, Seungmin taking his place in front. He'd had enough time to adjust to what's going on, but it's no less impactful to look up at Seungmin like this, prostrate and lowered to the extremest degree. He makes an effort to be quiet, his breath still making little sucking noises around the gag as Seungmin's deft fingers lace the thick leather collar around his exposed neck, buckling it methodically. Jisung swallows, fingers squeezing around his stress ball at every little brush of his fingers against his neck, the way the heavy collar feels weighing down his head as Seungmin's hand trails along the leash.

  
  


Seungmin leans back, pursing his lips before shrugging. “Good enough,” he says, tugging on the end of the leash, light enough just to remind him of the presence. Jisung only gets to see him handing the end of the leash off to Minho before his head is let go of, making an involuntary sound in the back of his throat as his aching neck falls back down again. “We'll see how that works.”

  
  


“Don't push Minho too much, Seungminnie, that poor thing is going to be destroyed between you,” Felix laughs. “Hmm, but this is convenient. Me and Changbin have been wanting to try a few more things out too, it would be nice to have a reference.”

  
  


He must pull something out, because Chan makes a considering sound. “Oh, feel free to. That's perfect, in fact.” 

  
  


Jisung knows the sound of his specific dress shoes, still unaware of what to expect until hands grasp his shoulders and pull him back. Minho makes sure to follow the motion with the leash so he doesn't choke too much, and before he knows it, Jisung is sprawled out on his back, blinking up at the ceiling. Even in this humbled state his eyes are greedy, immediately seeking out his first real look at what's going on. Every pair of eyes in the room is glued to him, every one of his closest friends totally clothed and casually watching him wriggle around bare and trussed on the ground.

  
  


Now that he's on his back, his legs are free, but he doesn't dare to move them that much, pressing his thighs together. In this position, he can see it when Felix stands up, eyes straining to try and catch a glance of his expression. He's so focused that he doesn't notice Chan moving over to behind him, warm hands settling on his knees before he unceremoniously yanks his legs apart. Jisung makes a muffled noise behind the gag, squirming as the flush travels down his his chest at the sudden exposure, the last illusion of covering leaving him.

  
  


“Oh, it's so cute!” Felix coos, squatting next to him. Jisung cranes his neck up as far as it can go to see what's going on until the collar around his neck pulls, reminding him to stay still. There's fingers gently taking hold of his half-hard cock, between thumb and forefinger, gingerly keeping it still through the involuntary shudders of Jisung's sweating body as the feeling of something smooth and firm is slid down over his cock, threading his balls through until the ring is sitting snugly around his base, the feeling of the pressure spreading heat through his lower stomach. What really gets to him is the way Felix is touching him, impartial and nonchalant, flicking his swollen balls with a little giggle.

  
  


“I want a turn,” Hyunjin complains, voice a little breathy.

  
  


“Hey, hey, don't hog it,” Changbin interjects, and Jisung can just make out the blurry impression of both of them standing up, comparing whatever it is that they've got. He has no idea what's about to be done to him, but they must come to a quick agreement because a moment later Hyunjin is settling down on the floor next to him, looking down at him with his hair cascading around his face, and Changbin joins Felix in between his spread legs.

  
  


“Where'd you guys get such a pretty toy?” Hyunjin muses, eyes critically sweeping over Jisung's body, pressing a finger into his cheek and meeting the resistance of the gag behind the skin.

  
  


Chan laughs from just out of his field of vision, probably fondly watching the nearly imperceptible trembles of his body as Changbin's strong hands take up the mantle of holding his shaky legs apart. “You wouldn't believe it, but it was nothing special when we found it. This is all Minho's doing, really.”

  
  


“Don't let me take all the credit, darling. Though I did do most of the work,” Minho responds. Jisung's head is positively spinning, everything just a little bit too much to actively process, conscious reaction going out the window. All he can think of is how high that makes him feel, that he's become such a good, beautiful, serviceable thing to please the higher beings around him.

  
  


There's fingers on the plug inside of him and he squeezes his eyes shut, muscles tensing and releasing against his bonds as it's slowly pulled out all the way. He can feel the copious lube dripping out of him, making quite the sight for everyone crowded around him. Distracted by the way Hyunjin is still experimenting with his body, pinching at his stomach and digging his nails into him to test how the flesh indents, Jisung is surprised when something cool and firm presses against his clenching hole.

  
  


His legs spasm together but more pairs of hands shove them apart again, his squirming earning him a teasing little tug on the leash as the toy slides further inside of him. His eyes fly open again at the feeling of what is definitely not just a dildo, his rim closing shut over the first round bead. He doesn't get even the illusion of a break as it's pressed further into him, slow but unyielding, each bead stretching his rim slightly wider until they're thick and unyielding. 

  
  


Changbin lays his other palm flat against the warm skin of Jisung's inner thigh, feeling every little tremble that runs through him. “Hm, not as sensitive as Felix. Still entertaining. Let's see...” Jisung has lost the ability to properly take in his words, a gargling moan trapped in his throat as the string of beads is pulled out of him, a sound punched out of him at every new bead that pops out of him, the sensation of his hole forced open and closed like nothing he's ever felt before. 

  
  


Hyunjin cackles above him as he stares at his expression, his bulging eyes and wet lips with drool squeezing past the gag. “Aw, it's so cute. Jeongin, come look.” 

  
  


That just bodes even more torture for Jisung, but he doesn't complain, stays still like a good little toy, breathing quick and shallow as he blinks up at the men above him and tries not to cry at the overwhelming sensations. Changbin is taking his time with his own pace, making considering noises in the back of his throat as he pushes the beads in and out, not giving him a second to breath. More footsteps and then Jeongin's face is above him as well, with an expression he's never seen on his younger friend's face before, sharp and ravenous. 

  
  


“Hey, Hyunjin, I bet you could try this out at the same time. It's so loose, but I suppose not everyone can get someone like Felix.” 

  
  


Hyunjin scoffs but moves away anyway. “You really can't share, can you?” 

  
  


It's so strange to hear them banter like normal considering what they're doing, especially when it means something else pushing his body closer to its breaking point. The beads are pulled out of him again until there's only the smallest left, and then there's cool fingers prodding at his entrance. God, no one besides Minho and Chan have fingered him for how long? They've never let any of their other occasional hookups do it, and the fact that these are people they know and love just make it even more intense.

  
  


It's probably Hyunjin's, judging by how long they are, slipping in an entirely contrasting texture to the toy already inside of him. The stretch isn't too much, only widening him to the width of the bigger beads, but it's still intense. A little bit later he can barely focus on that, though, because Jeongin is grinning a frankly terrifying smile above him, reaching into his jacket pocket and taking out the familiar shape of a little pink bullet vibrator. 

  
  


Jisung can't help but make a few little muffled sounds, eyes widening to express himself as best he can as he squirms, even though he knows he's not even supposed to be able to communicate as a human right now. They barely have the time to bring things like that out these days given how much they wring out of Jisung's body and brain, too much to ask for him after long hours of work. 

  
  


He's getting all he's ever wanted but never expected to get, to be truly pushed to the brink of what he can take by the hands of all of his closest friends. Hyunjin's fingers inside of him have begun to sting, more lube squirted directly into his body to ease the way as Jeongin tilts his head, eyes raking up and down his body for the perfect target. One of his hands comes up, dancing in the air just above his skin. With his first two fingers he delicately pinches the chain running from his gag to his puffy, sensitive, nipples, even just the phantom sensation exacerbating the deep resonating ache in them. 

  
  


“Oh,” someone breathes from out of his sight. It sounds like Felix, and Jisung doesn't have the presence of mind to wonder what caused that reaction before he feels it, the moment of emptiness inside as Hyunjin's fingers pull out before something bigger is pressing in, feeling freezing cold, firm and unyielding and smooth sliding against the thin beads inside of him, the shapes so different against his walls. There's a collective “ooh” that rings out around the circle as they all watch like hawks as his hole is stuffed full with the two toys, the glass of the dildo probably affording an even better view. 

  
  


Jisung can't do anything to respond, because Jeongin has taken the opportunity to turn the little vibrator on, pressing it down to the overheated skin of his nipples already throbbing from the clamps. He's too busy trying and failing to scream, cries coming out pathetic and quiet as overwhelmed tears pour down his cheeks. His eyes helplessly squeeze shut, body arching up and thrashing as much as he can as firm hands keep his legs spread apart and press down on his chest to keep him on the floor, not having anywhere to squirm away from the dual stimulation of the toys being relentlessly dragged in and out of his hole and the intensely delicious pain against his nipples. 

  
  


He knows unless he calls a break there'll be no mercy, not even any acknowledgment of his plight from the casual conversations and observations going on above him. He doesn't know how long it'll take like this until he breaks apart, though, and he knows that breaking this quickly isn't the goal for this evening. Chan is an expert at watching him and knowing the exact moment before his breaking point is, however, so he knows he can let himself be washed away in the rapids of every kind of physical sensation his body can take, increasing more and more as Jeongin drags the vibrator down his stomach, hovering dangerously close to his cock. 

  
  


Even nearly out of his mind, Jisung knows this is risky, helplessly trying to angle his hips away. He's not allowed to cum yet, that'll just get him cold and alone and aching for attention, but he's not going to be able to hold back no matter what for too long like this. His whines peak, audible albeit wetly through the firm gag as the hands on the toys shoved inside of him push harder, the beads purposefully angled forward until his thighs shudder and try to buck away at the intense sensation against his swollen prostate. His eyes fly open to plead through his tears at Jeongin, who makes brief eye contact with him and grins, pressing the bright pink vibrator directly against the underside of his leaking cockhead. 

  
  


His eyes bulge, head turning side to side, losing control of his posture as the intensity burns through him, pushing him to the limit in seconds. Before he can actually get too overwhelmed, the hands still on his body. “I'm bored,” is all Felix says, but all the attention is immediately redirected to him, the privilege of being an actual recognized human. 

  
  


“Yeah,” Hyunjin sighs, pulling the dildo out. “It's not even that interesting. Ew, look at how much mess it's getting all over your carpet!” 

  
  


Minho sighs, tugging on the leash around Jisung's neck again. His body has gone totally limp with the reprieve, already exhausted down to his bones, blinking weakly up at his boyfriend's familiar figure. “True. It's just a cheap toy though, don't expect to have high expectations.” 

  
  


“I can get you guys some drinks if you want,” Chan says, so disarmingly normal-sounding. Jisung knows, though, and his subconscious responds to it immediately, that this is nowhere near his normal voice. It's too even and collected, ready at a moment's notice to put him in his place. The others don't blink an eye, all casual and polite when accepting the offer, and in just a minute Jisung is left nearly alone prone on the carpet, limbs already feeling like jelly and overheated, sticky skin slowly cooling off. 

  
  


Minho kneels down next to him, sparing him a moment of softness to wipe the most of the wetness off of his face, tilting his head as he observes him. Jisung instinctively seeks out the minimal comfort of his touch, tilting his head against his leg. Not breaking the immersion, Minho scoots his thigh away, calmly lifting Jisung's torso a few inches, leaning over to check the ropes around his wrist and slipping a few fingers down to check the tightness. Satisfied, he reclines back against the couch again, wrapping the leash slack around his wrist. 

  
  


The voices from the kitchen meander back into the living room. No one even spares a glance towards him laying there messy and wet and helpless as they take their places on the couches again, locked in conversation about... renovations or something? Jisung can't pay attention, still knocked out of orbit even as his body recovers from the torture. He stares blankly at the ceiling, getting his breathing steady again. 

  
  


Jisung can't tell how long he's left there under the chatter of conversation again, but it can't be too long of his body sinking into mush before there's arms around his torso. He blinks his eyes open up at Chan's face, feebly trying to use his legs to help himself up. They're weak, nearly collapsing, but Chan is strong enough to lift him practically on his own, dragging him over to the couch where Minho is sitting. He's deposited unceremoniously into Minho's lap, automatically snuggling close into his warmth. Minho doesn't push him away but doesn't respond, simply continuing on his conversation with Changbin. 

  
  


Reclines back next to him, Chan watches Jisung struggle to keep his balance without the help of his arms, reaching over to touch, tug gently on the chain between the clamps still attached to his nipples. Someone must address him, because he looks away from Jisung to respond, fingers still idly playing with him. Minho's eyes are so intense as they watch the expressions twisting Jisung's face, finally touching him at least a little bit, hands encircling his bare waist. 

  
  


Chan doesn't stop talking as his fingers find a more firm purpose, pinching one of the clamps off. Jisung's body stiffens and bucks, the release of the abused flesh much more painful than the initial application, waves and waves of dull throbbing pain rippling through his whole torso. Minho pays a little bit more attention to him, cooing softly as he reaches up and massaging the skin of his chest, slowly working closer towards the hurting spots. He still can't resist pinching the reddened nipple just once, giggling quietly at the entertaining little whines it gets him. 

  
  


Chan's hands wander to the other one while Minho holds his torso steady so he can't wriggle away as he goes through that intense sensation again, eyes fluttering closed and breathing out through his nose at how much he truly adores this kind of permeating pain, pushing his mind higher in a way that so little else does. It passes, and he's both relieved and wishing for it again already as Minho's hands press into his tender skin. 

  
  


Jisung blinks in surprise as Chan reaches up and unlatches the ball gag, pulling it away from the back of his head and slipping the silicone ball out of his mouth. Jisung glances at Minho, who gently shushes him with a finger pressed to his slick lips, the touch lingering there. Only now that it's gone does Jisung realize that his jaw has started to seriously ache, his mouth held in Minho's fingers and guiding him to open and close it a few times, fingertips digging into his sore muscles. 

  
  


The fingers casually slip inside his mouth, stretching apart and sliding them down along his tongue. Jisung tries to start sucking on them but Minho reprimands him with a light slap to his inner thigh, reminding him of his place as a barely sentient plaything. When Chan is finished wiping down the gag and sets it aside, he slides a palm down his stomach and around his swollen cock, just that bit of friction seeming way too good to be true. 

  
  


The pure pleasure after everything tinged with pain seems like a dream, making him feel like he's walking on clouds, whining helplessly and feeling so privileged to be able to clearly vocalize again. He's waiting for this to be all ripped away from him in seconds, the other shoe to drop, but neither seems to be about to stop. Minho just shushes him a little more sternly, stuffing his mouth with three fingers down to his throat, Chan's hand wrapped around him sliding uncaring but steady up and down him. 

  
  


It takes so much longer for him to cum than usual, the cock ring snug around his base keeping the blood trapped in his dick, but it happens anyway, flashing behind his eyelids and pulsing sweet and hot through his body quick and way more satisfying than he was ever expecting from this evening. Chan makes a little disgusted noise at the splashes of cum on his fist, lifting it and letting Jisung obediently lick all of it off. It's amazing how they've perfected this, taking care of them while still keeping up the illusion of complete impartiality in their casual avoidance of eye contact and acknowledgment of his presence. 

  
  


Chan reaches around to check how his hands are doing, raising an eyebrow simple and direct, and Jisung gathers the presence of mind enough to nod in response, having learned well enough over the years to instinctively not squeeze too much on the soft ball between his hands. Minho's hands slide back down to his lower hips, digging in to the soft flesh and lifting him up. He leans forward with a little squeak, having to use his forehead on Minho's shoulder to balance himself without his arms free. It's genuinely comforting at this point when he feels the blunt tip of his familiar plug pushing inside of him, the simple, soft stretch so much nicer than the other punishing toys. He's dropped back down onto Minho's thigh, driving the thick plug against his prostate for a second and making his entire body shudder with the oversensitivity. 

  
  


His gag is fitted into his mouth again, Minho using the strap to pull his head close and murmur into his ear. “Seungmin's lap looks cold. Be a good toy and go warm it, hm?” Without any more warning Chan shoves him off Minho's lap and laughs quietly as he stumbles, legs wobbling and unstable as he totters forward to the opposite couch, no one else even giving him a second look but that almost making the humiliation worse. 

  
  


Seungmin grins as he gets close, the one that always comes before a brilliant but still terrible idea. He wastes no time in reaching out and catching the end of the leash dangling from Jisung's neck, yanking him forward until he falls forward into his lap. Seungmin laughs as he wriggles pathetically on his stomach, trying to sit himself upright and secure, taking pity on him after a few minutes and hauling him up. He stares up and down his marked-up body, still amused, idly pressing his fingers into some of the prints on his soft hips. He then grabs his thighs and pulls them apart a little, peering down and reaching under to press at the plug inside of him. 

  
  


“Convenient,” he muses. Jisung wants to squirm so bad. Now that he's on one of his other friends' warm laps his need for attention is rising again, but he knows that with Seungmin that would probably get him punished and not in a way he likes. He still can't help shivering in excitement as Seungmin reaches down to unbutton his pants, thighs squeezing around his legs. 

  
  


Seungmin gives him a glance with a raised eyebrow at his eagerness, causing him to still immediately, but he thankfully doesn't stop, sliding his hand into his pants to tug out his cock. He's never seen Seungmin like this before, and Jisung stares down at him, even more saliva pooling inside his mouth. Wrapping one hand around his base, the other reaches under to draw his plug out, setting it upright aside on the glass coffee table. All the lube that has been squirted inside of him starts to slide out, but before it can, Seungmin grabs him from the back and drags him forward, finding his target and letting Jisung's stretched hole slide down around him to the base. 

  
  


Even just the simple feeling of something warm and alive filling him is already so much better, snug against his walls in the best way. He's expecting Seungmin to maybe take advantage of his leash some more, fuck up into him, just something, anything. Instead, he just takes his hands off, looks away and rejoins one of the various conversations still going on, not even sparing him a glance. Jisung sits there for a moment, trying to be good, the obedient toy he should be. But the problem is that he needs to balance himself without his arms on Seungmin's lap and with no support, his thighs clenching to keep him put and thus squeezing hard around the cock inside of him and building a low whine in his throat. 

  
  


Without any other way to communicate, he stares holes into Seungmin's turned head, not getting any reaction for a good while, until he thinks he's about to burst with the itch growing inside of him to just move. Cold sweat is breaking out over his skin with exertion and simmering arousal, muscles tensing and relaxing and sending little shocks of sensation up his legs and throughout his body. He doesn't know how long it takes of this, waves of sensations battering his body, until he gives out and wavers forward, falling face-first into Seungmin's chest with a muffled choking noise. 

  
  


He doesn't want to start crying again already, turning the urge into a pathetic whine low in his throat, struggling to get himself upright again and only succeeding in pushing himself back against the firm presence inside of him even more. Seungmin's voice has broken off, the silence right above him somehow managing to be threatening. Jisung raises his head, feeling pinned under his intense gaze. Sengmin just sighs, and somehow that's more effective than anything else. His voice is low, for him only. “Come on. Can't even warm me up properly?” he shakes his head. Jisung is frozen, waiting for what he'll do next. 

  
  


His hands go to his neck, slipping under the relatively loose collar to make themselves home around his skin. Jisung breathes softly, pulse fluttering and heart thumping hard. “Hm, that clenching was a bit nice, though.” 

  
  


His thumbs press in gradually, right where the blood is pumping oxygen to his brain, making direct eye contact with Jisung's fluttering pupils. It's only for a moment, his breath catching in his throat and lungs squeezing, his body careening out of his control and hole gripping hard around every inch of Seungmin's cock, the other's head tilting back at the sensation as he lets go, chuckling low in his throat at the way Jisung wriggles and sucks breath in through his nose. 

  
  


He does it again, shorter this time but that's all he needs to send Jisung's helpless body into overdrive, having his entire being and life right in his hands and acting like it doesn't even affect him. Seungmin still can't help but fuck into his tight clutch a few times, interrupting his conversation to groan low and long. The itch is just building inside of Jisung's chest, the frustration at not being able to move or talk growing and growing as he squirms and squeezes like a stuck little worm. He's left even more ignored when Changbin leans over into Seungmin's space, catching his attention and glancing over at Jisung, so amused. 

  
  


Seungmin scoffs at whatever he says, squeezing Jisung's neck one more time as Changbin watches him closely, putting on a little show of the way his cheeks turn red and the way he struggles. Seemingly satisfied with how he's played with him for now, Seungmin leans back and lets Changbin haul Jisung off his lap and onto his, arms flexing right in front of his face. “Getting loose already, huh?” Changbin comments with a smirk, shoving three of his fingers into Jisung's hole without warning, so easily. 

  
  


“Still fun to play with it,” Seungmin says. “Just watch it's little face. It's hilarious.” Changbin hums, tugging his pants down, casually stroking his thick cock. Now, Jisung has seen his before, but now his mouth is literally watering, aching to finally get what he wants. He grinds down a little bit on Changbin's fingers, staring with wide, needy eyes. 

  
  


“Ok, let's see what this thing can do,” Changbin mutters, slipping his fingers out and tapping his blunt head against Jisung's winking hole, removing his hands and letting gravity slide him down. “C'mon, move.” Jisung blinks at the permission, taking a moment to process it before he experimentally drags himself up with his knees on the couch, dropping himself back down with a sharp inhale, head tilting back at the gratification. Changbin leans back, one arm behind his head, and watches him try to build up a rhythm and not fall off. Still, even though it's difficult, it feels almost too good to be true, unobstructed as he finds the perfect angle for Changbin's thick cock to slide just against his prostate on every thrust in, nearly getting to the point of bouncing back on him, urgently chasing the feeling. 

  
  


It's almost enough to get him to cum untouched, he know it is, he's almost there when the burning in his leg muscles gets too much, forcing him to stop, chest heaving as his torso slumps over to drip sweat on Changbin's still-clothed chest. “C'mon, keep going,” Changbin urges, still amused but firm, and Jisung squeezes his eyes shut, sitting upright again and trying to do as he's told. He only lifts himself up an inch before they completely give out, resorting to simply grinding shallowly with a whine, rolling his hips as best he can. Changbin sighs and slaps the inside of one of his shuddering thighs, watching the smooth skin redden and warm. “Fun, but useless,” he sighs. “Come on, is this all it has in it?” 

  
  


Jisung whines, pained by his inability to do his job, a couple more tears slipping from his eyes as he weakly pushing himself up again, the exertion making him so much more sensitive as he tries his best. It doesn't work, but he still tries. Changbin laughs and flicks the red, ignored head of his cock bouncing up and down, the sting the last straw for him, body collapsing and shuddering forward into Changbin's warm arms. He doesn't give him any comfort, attitude and total one-eighty from how he usually is and all the more attractive for that, just sighs in disappointment. He picks Jisung up with ease, ignoring his little pathetic whines trying to plead him that he can do better, unceremoniously dumping him over Felix's lap next to him. 

  
  


Felix murmurs something to Changbin that he can't hear, and the next thing Jisung sees is one of his large water bottles passed from Felix to Changbin and down to Seungmin, each chugging a large amount of it. He swallows, eyes wide, too far gone to register what's really going on. “Don't be too nice to it now, baby,” Changbin murmurs to Felix, who laughs brightly and shakes his head. 

  
  


“Don't worry about that, darling. I know you're much better.” Jisung stares up at his best friend with wide eyes, the strength nearly drained from his body until all he is is a mess of sensation and pliant limbs, truly only able to be used as the toy he is. Changbin huffs and leans over to kiss Felix above him, making Jisung feel even more invisible, put in his place as the afterthought he is right now. “It is quite the responsive little thing, though,” Felix comments as he pulls away, impassively staring down at Jisung's sweaty little body thrown over his lap. “Let me see...” 

  
  


He goes for the dangling clamps immediately, cooing softly as he pinches one onto one of his already swollen nipples, watching Jisung's eyes roll back with the waves of deep pain. “See? So cute,” he comments as he places the other one on without a break, one of his small hands reaching down to touch at the cock ring he put on him, keeping him hard and pulsing. 

  
  


Jisung can't tell what's pain and what's pleasure anymore, his favorite kind of overwhelming, all agency out of his hands as his body is played and pushed to its physical limits, the sensation of Felix's small hand stroking his oversensitive cock radiating through his sore muscles as his other hand tugs at the clamps mercilessly. He's expecting, hoping even, that Felix is going to get bored and switch to something else sooner or later, but he should know his friend better even if they've never been in a situation like this before. 

  
  


Felix just doesn't stop, watching him with cool hawk eyes as he gurgles and squirms away from his hands with nowhere to go, slowly but steadily pushing his body higher and higher until his back is arched up off his legs, a low muffled scream building in the back of his throat and all coherent ability thoroughly wiped from his brain.

  
  


When he inevitably cums from the unending harsh sensation, it empties his brains right out of his head, quietly twisting his body with shuddering, painful pleasure. Felix doesn't even stop when all the tension drains from his body and he collapses down in a puddle of goo over his legs, forcing weak, hopelessly oversensitized whines out of him for a moment before he finally gives him a break, watching his teary, red face with a grin. 

  
  


Jisung has never gotten to this point before, all concept of self cut off from his body by so long and so much, finally truly settling into his coveted role as a useful thing for the people he loves. “Oh, I think I broke it,” Felix says with false sympathy, tugging a little at his chains again and observing the way it doesn't even make his tired body twitch anymore. 

  
  


“Hey, before I could even get a turn?” Hyunjin complains, poking at Jisung's puffy cheek. 

  
  


“Look, it's still just as good. Probably pretty loose, though.” 

  
  


Hyunjin hums, yanking at Jisung's arm to pull him over, his body slumping over and sliding off onto the floor. “True...” He glances over to the other couch. “Hey, Chan, Minho, can I take the gag out? I want to use its mouth.” He must get an affirmative, because the next thing Jisung registers is hands around the back of his head, slipping the gag out of his mouth and tossing it carelessly away. Drool drips freely down his already-damp chin, mindlessly lolling his head against the thigh in front of him. One hand grabs his chin, tilting it up until he feels the cool rim of a water bottle against his mouth, tilting forward as he messily gulps to relieve his parched throat. After he's done, it's removed and passed around the room again. 

  
  


His body is pliant and limp, easily going along with the way Hyunjin positions him on his knees, two hands firm on his head as he gets him exactly where he wants. Jisung can't help but turn his head to the side and mouth idly at Hyunjin's pant legs, missing something to fill up his needy mouth. He doesn't have to be empty for very long, though, because in no time there' something firm and soft and damp pressing against his lips, faintly salty. 

  
  


His eyes flutter open and he hungrily opens his mouth, gladly letting Hyunjin guide his long cock into his mouth. Inch after inch it slides in, all the way to the back of his throat and farther, taking advantage of him being trained out of his gag reflex long ago. He knows to keep his teeth covered and tongue still to give the other all of the control, yearning for more. Hyunjin doesn't even spare him a glance even as his mouth slides all the way down to his base, smiling and talking casually to the others in the room. 

  
  


His hands tangle in Jisung's hair, keeping his head down all the way, forcing him to breathe through his nose again and swallow his spit around the thick, warm length filling his mouth. He can't resist starting to suckle on it softly, tongue gently rubbing along the underside and cheeks hollowing slightly, gaining the reward of Hyunjin's voice wavering just a little bit above of him before his head is firmly pulled off a few inches and shoved down again, gagging him for a second before he gets control of it again.

  
  


Hyunjin's hips push forward, the head of his cock fitting into the tight canal of Jisung's throat, rocking in and out and using his hands as handles in his hair to guide himself and speed up, using his throat as a fleshlight. More tears slip from Jisung's eyes, dirty wet sounds squelching from the seal of his mouth as he helplessly drools all over Hyunjin's cock pounding into his throat. It's so comforting to him to have his mouth stuffed like this, being used and granting one of his friends this much pleasure, precum blurting from the cock in his mouth and getting hungrily drunk down. 

  
  


Hyunjin breaks off from the conversation he's having entirely to moan softly, reaching down urgently to catch around the leash still dangling from his neck and pull on it just enough for Jisung's throat to squeeze hard around him, pulling another punched-out groan from his throat. He yanks on it one more time before his hands return to Jisung's hair and drags him off, grabbing his cock and swiping the head over his wet, glossy lips. “Fuck, that's good,” he mutters, laughing and gesturing at him to Jeongin sitting next to him. 

  
  


“Can't be that good, babe, look how fucking messy it is,” Jeongin responds with a little laugh, leaning over to kiss his boyfriend, tongues sliding together right in front of Jisung like he's showing him what he's missing. “Come on, let me show you how to treat a cute little toy like that.”

  
  


“Oh?” Hyunjin says lazily, failing to hide the anticipation in his voice. He slaps his cock on Jisung's needy extended tongue once more before hauling him up onto his lap, handing him over to Jeongin who drags him onto his own lap, stomach over his knees and legs over Hyunjin's next to him. 

  
  


Jisung pants openly now that his mouth is free, breath hitching as both of Jeongin's hands grip his bare ass, squeezing the flesh hard. He hums, considering, kneading and playing with the soft skin, sending sparks of soft pleasure up his spine. “Small, but cute,” he comments, spreading him apart to flick at his red-rubbed hole. 

  
  


“You're one to talk,” Hyunjin laughs. 

  
  


“Me?” Jeongin says incredulously. “You're literally flat!” In any other situation, Jisung would laugh, but he's nowhere near that amount of coherence, especially when Jeongin's strong fingers are digging into his squishy little ass, pushing it together and letting it go to watch it jiggle a little. The first hit startles a high squeak out of him, hard and stinging. Pleased at the reaction, another comes down hard over his other cheek a second later, causing his tired muscles to jump and twitch. Only more encouraged, slaps rain down on his poor ass, over and over again until the pain warms hot and so good through his whole body, high whines forced from his unblocked mouth. 

  
  


They pause for a moment to smooth large, flat palms over the reddening skin, the soft touch after the pain feeling like literal heaven, pushing him higher into a state of completely floating, clipping into a hazy world just apart from this one. He subconsciously pushes back up into it, whining for more. That earns him a low laugh, nails digging into the flesh of his bottom before raising and smacking down hard again, pushing a pained but satisfied moan from his throat, resounding throughout the whole room. 

  
  


“Someone shut that thing up, I can't hear myself think,” Seungmin complains. Jeongin doesn't stop with his fun, experimenting with smacking down on the meat of Jisung's upper thighs and the crease of his ass. He can't do anything to stop the stream of pathetic whines and gasps streaming from his open, drooling mouth, legs firmly held down by Hyunjin to stop his little helpless kicks. 

  
  


“We'll take care of it,” he hears, and even in such a fucked-dumb state Jisung's head still weakly raises at the sound of his partners' voices, blinking through the haze of tears as he spots Chan and Minho heading towards him, needy little noises pouring from him, still the only way he can communicate even though he's technically free to speak. 

  
  


Minho grins down at him, eyes scanning over his sweaty, bruised body, possessive streak overruled by the wonder of seeing Jisung so utterly used. “Did a number on it, huh?” Chan laughs, crossing his arms and flicking his eyes up to Jeongin. He just huffs and nods, pointedly glancing down at the way Jisung's round little ass bounces and burns hot and bright red with every hit. 

  
  


The even needier little noises Jisung is making at the sight of them are finally shut up by Chan's cock shoved into his mouth, causing him to go silent and pliant as he looks up at him with dark liquid eyes, sucking obediently. It's taken away from him too soon, though, but he doesn't even have the time to complain before Minho is taking his place, sliding his dick all over his puffy, damp cheeks before dipping into his mouth as well. They keep alternating, not letting him get into a rhythm or predict what's going to happen next, reducing him to whining breathily and hanging his mouth open, sloppily mouthing at whatever he can. 

  
  


The hands at his ass have stopped torturing him, thankfully, going back to squeezing and playing idly. He's too distracted staring up at his partners and trying to fit both their cocks in his mouth to notice what's going on behind him, sputtering in surprise when a long cock slides right inside of him, hands gripping at his heated cheeks as Jeongin groans in satisfaction behind him. “Shit, is it ok if I cum in it?” 

  
  


“Go ahead,” Minho pants, thumbs stretching Jisung's lips wide around him, taking all of his mouth for himself to fuck for a second. With the go-ahead Jisung's body is shook like a ragdoll between them, hips yanked back and punching helpless little sounds out of him with every impact, more and more hands over his skin until he realized that everyone else must be above him as well, watching him get wrecked on both ends. 

  
  


It doesn't take long before the hips against him twitch and jerk and push, spurting deep inside of him. Jeongin pulls out, thumbs stretching his hole apart to watch, multiple voices laughing at the way Jisung tilts his hips back up to keep the cum from slipping out. “Looks like being a cumdump is the only thing it's good at,” someone mutters from behind him, and there's another dick in him just a moment later, thicker than the last. He can't see behind him, can't tell which of his friends is fucking the cum back inside of him with wet sounds, someone else rubbing sticky trails of precum over his asscheeks. 

  
  


A muffled curse and more cum is spilled inside of him, dripping down his thighs on the drag out. It's swiftly pushed back in by the next person using his body as a toy to get off, settling into a rhythm of shallow strokes, none of them caring for his pleasure, causing him to utterly savor every accidental slide against his swollen prostate. It's too good compared to the way his rubbed-raw but still hard cock drags against the rough fabric of the couch under him, sending shudders of oversensitized pain up his spine but not doing anything to stop it. 

  
  


Chan's hands slide into his hair and hold him down, fucking his throat with his characteristic tells signaling Jisung to hang his jaw open more, rubbing the flat of his tongue out over the underside of him until he gets a faceful of cum all over his cheeks and tongue. He whines and smacks his lips, Minho patting his head and stuffing his mouth back up a second later. 

  
  


How many cocks have been in his ass by now? He can't tell, can only judge by the loud, wet sounds from all the cum overflowing from his hole, it's disgusting but he absolutely loves it, whole body covered in it as Minho finally cums on his tongue as well, shaking the droplets onto his needy lips. He can feel more splatter across the small of his back, rubbed into his skin like it's there to stay at this point, like this is really what he is and always will be, living with nothing but this heady mix of pain and pleasure. 

  
  


His body aches with every beat of his heart, caught in this suspended state pushed right to the line of bad-pain and all the better for getting this close. His hole is rubbed raw by all the callous pounding, dick stinging even more with every helpless grind into the couch. He's so stretched the cool air blows into his ass when whoever's fucking him pulls out, more warm seed littering his already sticky and covered skin. 

  
  


“Fuck, you really messed it up,” Chan observes, obviously impressed as he takes in all that Jisung can't see, the expanse of bare skin ruined and covered with spit and sweat and copious amounts of cum. 

  
  


“This is too much to clean,” Minho complains, exaggerated, flicking Jisung's hanging forehead lightly. “I'm not wiping all that up.” 

  
  


“Shit, I'll help,” Felix's deep voice pipes up first. There's soft sounds of reaction around him but Jisung hasn't processed anything properly for the past half-hour at least, half-lidded eyes flying open at the feeling of warm, wet liquid streaming across his lower back. 

  
  


Minho hums approvingly, grabbing his chin and tilting his face up. “Oh, good idea.” 

  
  


Previously too tired to be moaning as loud as when they started, Jisung can't help as the noises start up again at the realization of all his closest friends starting to literally piss all over him, using him as a human urinal without care, liquid running down his thighs and sides. “Look at this mouth, it's practically perfect for this,” Chan mutters, taking advantage of Minho's grip to position his softening cock right in front of his slack jaw. Jisung's eyes are half-lidded, exhaustion creeping up on him but not willing to miss this for the world, flicking his gaze from it up to Chan's face. He pushes his tongue out even more just in time for his face to get sprayed with piss, scrunching his eyes shut but whimpering hungrily at the utter humiliation as his face is washed in the imitation of clean. 

  
  


He's dripping, literally washed with the substance, addicted to the feeling and what it represents. His head is spinning, everything building up, the way he's been treated since the beginning, every bit of overwhelming sensation crashing over him. The last straw, finally too much to handle, is when callused palms, undeniably Changbin's, press his hips down, slipping the head of his cock right into his gaping hole before releasing with a satisfied groan. It's such a foreign, potent feeling, so much liquid steadily streaming right inside of him, bloating him full as he can do nothing but squirm and sob weakly, body shifting against the couch under him. 

  
  


His third orgasm catches him like a physical blow, like a giant's hand picking him up and squeezing every bit of feeling it can from his body, wracking through him in waves stronger and stronger until his vision blurs, leaving him only a second of consciousness before he's out the second his head hits a solid surface. 

-

  
  


Awareness comes back in little snippets, the water of a shower, tender words murmured into his skin, the soft, familiar pillow of his bed. Someone pets over his hair softly, tilting his head up and helping him gulp down more water. “... is he okay?” someone asks, the others most likely crowded into his bedroom. 

  
  


Chan's familiar voice laughs softly next to him, so incredibly different than the tone he had in scene, petting through his hair. “Yeah, we know how to take care of him.” 

  
  


“He's incredible, isn't he?” Minho says, and Jisung is still coming to, but he makes a little annoyed noise anyway at what he knows is one of the beginnings of one of his boyfriend's many impassioned rants about him. “Shh, baby, go back to sleep. I want to brag about you.” 

  
  


Jisung does as he's told, still in a haze, knowing he's going to be both walking on clouds for days after this and sore in so many ways. He definitely won't be able to do anything like this for a long while, but there's nothing like it, giving over everything and letting go of all responsibility to those he trusts the most.

  
  


“Sorry about your couches, by the way,” Seungmin comments, the last thing he hears before Jisung drifts off for good. 

**Author's Note:**

> well that was a journey!! hope it was a good one hehe
> 
> [fic update twt](http://twitter.com/mysticetic)
> 
> [main](http://twitter.com/orca_mandaeru)


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